


Tape Over the Camera

by FictionLover007



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 10:53:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13634823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionLover007/pseuds/FictionLover007
Summary: Lance is an FBI agent who recently got transferred to Cybercrimes. Keith is a post-grad student working on further education, who happens to write some poorly worded tweets. Basically the FBI is watching AU no one asked for.





	1. Prologue

It was going to happen eventually. Agent Lance McClain thought that to himself as he waited for the elevator in the lobby of the FBI building. He was going to do something stupid and get transferred to Cybercrimes for a month or two. He just didn’t expect it to happen within the first three months on the job.

As the doors slid open and Lance walked inside the elevator, he reminded himself that at least he wasn’t on probation. Hunk’s words, not his. Hunk, his active crimes partner, was also riding the desk following Lance’s incident, but since he hadn’t done anything wrong, it was an easy work week for him. Lance...Lance got cybercrimes.

Cybercrimes was on the third floor of the Quantico building, and the only reason Lance knew that was because of the delivery reports, showing 1/3 of the coffee in the whole building went to that specific floor. That, and the sign on the elevator’s control panel, labeling the floor, but it was mostly the coffee.

The elevator stopped, and emitted a chime, notifying Lance that he had arrived at the Cybercrime division. The doors slid open, and there, sitting on the floor, was Agent Gunderson.

Agent Gunderson, or Pidge as some call them, was in Lance’s FLETC class, along with Hunk. Specializing in Computer Science, Cybercrimes was their natural division, and quickly became a rising star in the FBI.

“Hi Pidge.” Lance said, only to receive no response. Pidge just continued typing away on a tablet, with their headphones in. Lance sighed, and proceeded to squat in front of the ginger agent, reached out and pressed the lock button on the tablet.

Pidge started, and began swearing. “What the fu...Lance? What the shit? Why?” The angry look on their face softened upon seeing Lance’s face, which did not look as pretty as usual.

“I tried to get your attention. What’s up Pidge?”

“Oh not much. I’m just working on an algorithm to sort through social media profiles to classify potential threat levels depending on key words and grammatical analysis.”

Lance fought the urge to rub the bridge of his nose. “Would you mind saying that again, you know, in English? Or Spanish, I don’t care. Just not technobabble.”

Pidge squinted. “Math equation sorts online posts to see if people are terrorists.” They deadpanned. ”And I suggest you learn technobabble, because for the extent of your stay here, you’re going to be hearing a lot of it.”

“Learn to speak technobabble? Man, learning English was hard enough, don’t put me through this too.”

“Hey, at least it’s not Scandinavian, or Mandarin. Come on, let me show you around.” Pidge climbed up off the floor, and walked down the aisle of computer tables, Lance following, wearily behind.

“Over there is the break room. One of the interns brews a fresh pot of coffee every half hour, on the dot, but it goes fast around here. Most of these people work a 14-hour shift, and some don’t go home anymore. If someone’s asleep, let them be for an hour. Over here is the hub. A list of all active investigations are here, so everyone knows what they’re working on. It’s color coded, as you can see. Cybercrimes rules are also posted here. It’s mostly for the benefit of the interns at this point, but it will probably apply for you too.”

The poster on the wall had three itemized points on it. ‘1. Have a computer problem? Call tech support not a coworker. 2. Always try rebooting your computer if it won’t work. 3. Don’t get hacked.”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “That’s...helpful?”

“Meh. It works. Now, let me show you where you’re planting your butt while you’re here.”

Pidge walked over to an empty cubicle, that had two monitors set up on the desk. Just as Lance sat down at said desk, a head popped up outside the cubicle.

“Hi Pidge! Who’s the new guy?”

Pidge jumped slightly, but turned to Lance and said “Lance, this is Agent Rover, Rover, this is Agent Lance McClain. He’s going to be beta testing the new online threat analysis software.”

“Oh! You’re the guy who let your protection detail package get shot.’

Lance winced. “I didn’t LET him get shot.”

“No, but the bullet literally just missed you. All you had to do was move like an inch over, and whole different story.”

“Yeah, I can imagine the headlines. FBI probationary agent shot in the head protecting the latest traitor to the United States.” Lance snapped, malice coloring his words.

Rover flinched. “Yeah. Sorry. Never mind. See you around Agent McClain. Bye.” With that, Rover’s head disappeared.

Lance sighed, and rubbed his eyes, flinching when his fingers came in contact with the bruising and injuries left behind by the close path of the sniper bullet. A shallow groove cut across Lance’s nasal bridge and his left cheekbone, leaving him with a black eye as well. The injury stopped just underneath the corner of his left eye, where the bullet had lost contact with Lance, and gone straight into the guy Lance had supposed to be protecting. He sighed, and slouched in his chair.

“It wasn’t your fault; you know?” Pidge offered. “I read the report. You were exactly where you were supposed to be, just like every other agent on that detail. And that shot, the sniper made, well, by hitting you, the worst your subject got was a bullet to the shoulder. It wasn’t fatal. It was an impossible angle.”

“Yeah, but because he got shot, we broke our promise to the Russians that he wouldn’t be harmed, and now they’re terminated all prisoner exchange negotiations. That’s on me.

“What exactly were you supposed to do? You were literally shot in the face! You...”

A woman walked into the cubical, cutting them off. “Pidge, I’m hearing a lot of chit-chat. Please get back to work.”

Pidge’s mouth closed with an audible click. “Yes ma’am. Lance, this is Agent Allura, she monitors and runs this floor. She’ll be your supervisor while you’re here. She’ll fill you in on everything else you need to know, while I grab everything I need to get you set up.” Pidge squeezes past the woman, leaving Lance alone.

Lance stands up, and holds out his hand. “Agent Lance McClain, ma’am.”

“Yes, I know who you are. I’m assuming Agent Gunderson has filled you in on what you’ll be doing during your time here?” She did not accept his handshake as she spoke.

Lance dropped his hand. “Yes ma’am.”

“I understand you have had training and experience in computer science?”

“Yes, ma’am. Minored in college.”

“Hmm. Well, please refrain from bothering your colleagues while you’re here, you may have noticed that we’re very busy.”

“Yes ma’am. Understood.”

With that, Agent Allura walked off, and Lance let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. He saw Pidge peeking around the corner, watching as Allura left.

They hurried back into Lance’s cubical, and connected some wires to the monitors on the desk.

“Wow, she does not like me.” Lance said.

“No, she just doesn’t like her department being the punishment zone. Cybercrimes has become one of the most common forms of offenses in the country, and when we need are more trained agents, not the FBI’s troublemakers. She’s really nice when she’s not super stressed. But right now, war path. Stay out of it.”

Lance nodded, and turned his attention to what Pidge was doing. “What are you doing?”

“This is what you’ll be doing. This program is in early stages of development, and will be searching online social media for potential threats. It looks for people who might possibly be about to cause major incidents like terrorist attacks and school shootings.”

“Do people really talk about stuff like that online beforehand? Wouldn’t that warn people?”

“Sometimes. Some people really are that stupid. Others are a bit subtler. Conversion to a different religion with a radical point of view is definitely a marker we look for, especially in domestic citizens, along with pre-teen and teen male bully victims. We also occasionally find sociopathic and psychopathic behavior this way.”

“Huh. Okay. Got it. And I just...monitor the program?”

“The program will flag certain posts that indicate threat based on the criteria, and you’ll review the post, and the profile of the person to see if it’s legitimate. The machine can’t really tell sarcasm from serious remarks, so, we need a human brain to sort it out. If you need any help, just ask me, or Allura. Also, you are beta-testing the program. Any comments you have to improve it would be useful.”

“Got it. Anything else?”

“Nope. Have fun. Lunch break is at 1. See ya then.”

With that, Lance was left alone. He turned to face the screen, and began to get to work.

* * *

 

Two hours later and Lance was starting to get bored. He couldn’t really imagine doing this for the next month, given that a good 95% of the flags he’d seen were either sarcastic remarks or not within the FBI’s domain. He’d marked two people to be investigated by the Secret Service, and another for the Coast Guard. Lance was just about to grab another cup of coffee when a new flag popped up. It was a tweet.

@crypt!d_mu11et tweeted “This class makes me want to stab someone. #fuckthis”

A picture was attached, of a wicked looking knife, custom-made, Lance guessed, lying on top of a laptop. What little background Lance could see looked like a lecture hall.

The tweet had Lance’s attention for a full solid minute when someone replied to the tweet. @i_am_space_dad tweeted “hey @crypt!d_ mu11et put that away before someone calls the police”

There was an instant reply from crypt!d_mullet. He tweeted “@i_am_space_dad fine but I want ramen for dinner 2nite #Ihateeverythingbutramen”

Lance breathed, and un-flagged the profile. Just some stupid kid who didn’t actually plan to murder someone.

There was a slight knocking noise behind him. Lance turned to see Pidge.

“Hey, you want some lunch?” They asked.

“Yes please, I’m bored out of my brain right now.” Lance sighed, exaggerating his tone.

“Mmhmm. Don’t care. Let’s go, you’re buying.”

“What?! Why am I buying?”

“Cause you’re the newbie. Welcome to Cybercrimes!”


	2. Chapter 2

Cryp!d_mu11et, aka, Keith Kogane would become a pain in the ass for Lance for the next few days. Every day it seemed like a tweet, snap, or post on Tumblr would bring him to Lance’s attention, and every time he wondered if he was making a mistake by deeming Keith a non-threat.

First it was the knife post. Then it was a poorly worded comment about throwing an axe, and then about causing havoc with a smoke detector. But today, today was the worst. Because today, like any modern day psychopath, Keith had made a list of all the different ways he imagined killing somebody. And then he posted that list on Tumblr. And what was the reaction to that post? Other Tumblr-psychopaths ADDING ideas in the notes. By the time Lance had read the sixth iteration of feeding a cadaver to a pig, a red spot the size of a golf ball had appeared on his forehead, from banging it on a desk.

Other than Keith, Pidge’s program hadn’t done much good in picking out terrorists and serial killers. He’d managed to catch a serial car thief, and some idiots who’d robbed a convenience store, and then taken pictures with the missing items in the frame. And by catch, he tipped off the local authorities, which was all Lance was allowed to do. In the week of working in Cybercrimes, the only times Lance had left his desk were for coffee, lunch and bed. He missed active field work.

Another flag popped up, and Lance groaned. Keith, again. @crypt!d_mu11et tweeted “Engineering professor gave us free range on hw. Time to make potato bomb!”

Lance’s mouth hung open, in shock and disbelief. He shook his head, and marched over to Pidge’s desk. Pidge was sitting with their feet kicked up and headphones in, typing away. Lance tapped their shoulder, startling the ginger agent.

“Lance! Geez! Stop scaring me! What? What do you want? And what is that, on your forehead?” Pidge’s eyes scrunched up with that last statement.

Lance sighed and pointed at the red mark. “This is because of idiots on the internet, the only thing that program of yours really wants to pick out. And there’s this one guy, one guy, who keeps popping up. And I look at his posts, and none of them really seem to be bad, but he’s popped up every day, and I need a fresh pair of eyes to tell me if he’s actually crazy.”

“Ooookaaayyy...well, let’s see it then.” Pidge smirked, amused at the taller agent’s frustration.

The two walked back to Lance’s desk, and Pidge immediately snapped the seat, and scrolled through the twitter feed Lance had left open.

“Hmm...potato bomb, that’s creative...smoke detector...axe throwing...stabbing people in class, that’s interesting...#ibelieveinmothman, okay what?...pasta is the greatest food on Earth, I say I have to agree. Okay, this guy’s not a criminal. Just an idiot on the internet sometimes. Although I’m not sure bringing a knife to class and posting a photo of it online was a good idea. That seems like a problem for campus security.”

“His Tumblr feed is worse. Look.”

Pidge clicked on the next tab. “How I’d kill a man...knife to the jugular...knife to the stomach...knife...knife...knife...wow this guy likes knives. Good thing he’s not a British schoolboy...” They turned to look at Lance after that joke.

“No, no, that’s not funny. Kids bringing knives to school is just as bad as bringing a gun. Your sense of humor is just as bad as his.”

“Oh no, mine is much worse. Can I get back to work now?” Pidge grinned.

“Yeah, I guess.” Lance groaned. Just as he reclaimed his seat, another flag popped up. Not Keith. Someone under that handle @godisevil posted “I will destroy the chapels of America with fire #godwilldie” Underneath was a picture of a clearly photoshopped gun from Call of Duty in the hands of a man wearing hunting fatigued and a baseball cap with “atheist” embroidered in it. His location was tagged. Franklin, Louisiana. Right, time to call the New Orleans FBI office.

The next day...  
As Lance stumbled to his desk he could see the notification of all the flags that had come in overnight. He scrolled through them, unflagging many of them, until he came across Keith’s notification.

@crypt!d_mu11et tweeted “Do you think the FBI agent watching me is concerned yet?”

Lance groaned. Rover popped up, looking concerned. “Are you alright?”

Lance gingerly rubbed his face, shaking his head underneath his palms.

“Oh. Well. Good luck then.” With that Rover disappeared, and left Lance to stare at the screen despairingly.


End file.
